One afternoon, as they were sitting at their tea, a footstep in the
garden approached the house, and then a figure passed the window. Mr.
Lammie started to his feet.
'Bless my sowl, Aggy! that's Anderson!' he cried, and hurried to the
door.
His daughter followed. The boys kept their seats. A loud and hearty
salutation reached their ears; but the voice of the farmer was all
they heard. Presently he returned, bringing with him the tallest and
slenderest man Robert had ever seen. He was considerably over six feet,
with a small head, and delicate, if not fine features, a gentle look
in his blue eyes, and a slow clear voice, which sounded as if it were
thinking about every word it uttered. The hot sun of India seemed to
have burned out everything self-assertive, leaving him quietly and
rather sadly contemplative.
'Come in, come in,' repeated Mr. Lammie, overflowing with glad welcome.
'What'll ye hae? There's a frien' o' yer ain,' he continued, pointing to
Robert, 'an' a fine lad.' Then lowering his voice, he added: 'A son o'
poor Anerew's, ye ken, doctor.'
The boys rose, and Dr. Anderson, stretching his long arms across the
table, shook hands kindly with Robert and Shargar. Then he sat down and
began to help himself to the cakes (oat-cake), at which Robert wondered,
seeing there was 'white breid' on the table. Miss Lammie presently came
in with the teapot and some additional dainties, and the boys took the
opportunity of beginning at the beginning again.
Dr. Anderson remained for a few days at Bodyfauld, sending Shargar to
Rothieden for some necessaries from The Boar's Head, where he had left
his servant and luggage. During this time Mr. Lammie was much occupied
with his farm affairs, anxious to get his harvest in as quickly as
possible, because a change of weather was to be dreaded; so the doctor
was left a good deal to himself. He was fond of wandering about, but,
thoughtful as he was, did not object to the companionship which Robert
implicitly offered him: before many hours were over, the two were
friends.
Various things attracted Robert to the doctor. First, he was a relation
of his own, older than himself, the first he had known except his
father, and Robert's heart was one of the most dutiful. Second, or
perhaps I ought to have put this first, he was the only gentleman,
except Eric Ericson, whose acquaintance he had yet made. Third, he was
kind to him, and gentle to him, and, above all, respectful to him; and
to be respected was a new sensation to Robert altogether. And lastly,
he could tell stories of elephants and tiger hunts, and all The Arabian
Nights of India. He did not volunteer much talk, but Robert soon found
that he could draw him out.
But what attracted the man to the boy?
'Ah! Robert,' said the doctor one day, sadly, 'it's a sore thing to come
home after being thirty years away.'
He looked up at the sky, then all around at the hills: the face of
Nature alone remained the same. Then his glance fell on Robert, and he
saw a pair of black eyes looking up at him, brimful of tears. And thus
the man was drawn to the boy.
Robert worshipped Dr. Anderson. As long as he remained their visitor,
kite and violin and all were forgotten, and he followed him like a dog.
To have such a gentleman for a relation, was grand indeed. What could he
do for him? He ministered to him in all manner of trifles--a little to
the amusement of Dr. Anderson, but more to his pleasure, for he saw
that the boy was both large-hearted and lowly-minded: Dr. Anderson had
learned to read character, else he would never have been the honour to
his profession that he was.
But all the time Robert could not get him to speak about his father. He
steadily avoided the subject.
When he went away, the two boys walked with him to The Boar's Head,
caught a glimpse of his Hindoo attendant, much to their wonderment,
received from the doctor a sovereign apiece and a kind good-bye, and
returned to Bodyfauld.
Dr. Anderson remained a few days longer at Rothieden, and amongst others
visited Mrs. Falconer, who was his first cousin. What passed between
them Robert never heard, nor did his grandmother even allude to the
visit. He went by the mail-coach from Rothieden to Aberdeen, and whether
he should ever see him again Robert did not know.
He flew his kite no more for a while, but betook himself to the work of
the harvest-field, in which he was now able for a share. But his violin
was no longer neglected.
Day after day passed in the delights of labour, broken for Robert by The
Arabian Nights and the violin, and for Shargar by attendance upon Miss
Lammie, till the fields lay bare of their harvest, and the night-wind of
autumn moaned everywhere over the vanished glory of the country, and it
was time to go back to school.